Friday, March 12, 2010

How dare you interrupt my delicate senses

1.
Can you hear the clanging cymbals distracting our minds from the polluted lyrics of the sadistic entity called government and the warring faction called the opposition?

Can you hear the echoes of silence on things that matter and the hollow resonance on things that count?

2.
Can you you feel the weight of a palm pressing ever so blatantly against our skulls trying to dull our ears from the truth?

Can you feel the oppression of thought, peace, civility and wisdom?

3.
Can you smell the festering wounds of a lame government who insists on fraternizing with the healthy?

Can you smell the heated metal of opposition weaponry glancing through the air slicing into those same wounds - the wafts of sharpness causing us to rear back in distaste yet peering closer in fascination?

4.
Can you see the leaders, both real and potential, reeling under the sway of the intoxication of a dry robust wine labeled power and staggering from the effects of a citrusy wine called almost power?

Can you see the masses, clawing to be whipped, chained, dragged and branded in their misguided yearning for belonging, favour and acknowledgment?

5.
Have you tasted the bitter residue of an abused nation that deserves better?

Have you tasted the choking smoke of ignorance flavouring our media diets?

6.
I am a woman and I am privileged with the sixth sense of intuition.

Within me, I see us spiraling down...and I can see no one with the ropes, hooks and safety net to catch us much less carry us back up?

Where is the change, what is the difference between yellow and red?

For once, I am deigned to be chaste.

Hesitant in releasing my privilege.

Cautious with my ability to empower someone by gracing them with the honour of my stained index finger.

I want to reclaim my electoral virginity
for I shudder at what I have allowed into my
realm of consciousness.
But I fear political
celibacy is the highest floor to attain for
I have been tainted, sullied and bruised by their whorish acts.

We are falling out of love with this country.

1 comment:

  1. Voted once and I think that will be it with me and that exercise.

    ReplyDelete

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